


It Never Ends For Five

by FiveUmbrellaAcademy



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abusive Reginald Hargreeves, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Chess Metaphors, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Exhaustion, Heavy Angst, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Mind the Tags, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The Sparrow Academy Sucks, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, injured Five
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27540505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiveUmbrellaAcademy/pseuds/FiveUmbrellaAcademy
Summary: On April 2nd, inside the Hargreeves' mansion, Five spits out of the time vortex, after rewinding time for the nth time that day.Crashing harshly, Five staggers up, snatches the shotgun, teleports right behind the old man, Reginald Hargreeves -Lines up the shotgun right against his head."Let my family go."The entire Sparrow Academy falls eerily silent. The whole battle abruptly ends.Five ignores the blood streaming down the side of his forehead, ignores how part of it trickles into his left eye....Ignores how his heart is thudding so erratically in his chest from the overexertion of his powers, how his knees are threatening to collapse, to dry heave all the blood crawling up his throat before passing out -Five grits his teeth and ignores it all. Everything was irrelevant, everything, except how he could get his family out alive.It all went to shit the moment they teleported with the briefcase.
Comments: 41
Kudos: 357





	1. It Never Ends

On April 2nd, inside the Hargreeves' mansion, Five spits out of the time vortex as if greeting an old friend with a vengeance, after rewinding time for the nth time that day.

Crashing harshly to his hands and knees, far from graceful, Five staggers up, barely missing a beat, _desperately_ snatches the shotgun -

Teleports right behind the old man, Reginald Hargreeves -

Lines up the shotgun right against his head. 

"Let my family _go_." 

The entire Sparrow Academy falls eerily silent. The whole battle abruptly ends. The mere action ends the entire ordeal, and Five almost scoffs at the notion.

Five had already guessed, already knew why the old man never accompanied them on their missions. This all but confirms it. 

Immediately, the members of the academy mutely lowers their weapons, their powers slowly dissipating into thin air. 

Five ignores the blood streaming down the side of his forehead, ignores how part of it trickles into his left eye. 

...Ignores how his heart is thudding so erratically in his chest from the insane overexertion of his powers, how his knees are _screaming_ , threatening to collapse from under him from the mere action of _breathing_ , to dry heave all the blood crawling up his throat before involuntarily passing _out_ \- 

Five grits his teeth and ignores it all. Everything was irrelevant, _everything_ , except how he could get his family out alive. 

It all went to _shit_ the moment they teleported with the briefcase. 

_"I knew you'd show up eventually,"_ Reginald had said, before all hell broke loose. 

Five smirks manically, his eyes glinting. The shotgun steady in his hand. The image of the Handler's bullets flying, embedding itself into his siblings body as it thuds lifelessly, _uselessly_ , back in the barn. It's still flashing in his mind. 

Those were his siblings' third deaths. 

...Five can _still_ see his siblings' fourth, fifth, _sixth_ deaths, just mere seconds ago. 

The minute they teleported, the Sparrow Academy were waiting for them. 

Luther completely and utterly loses his fight with a member of the Sparrow Academy. That person was taught hand to hand combat, coupled with brutal strength rivalling even Luther's, but with by far superior intellect.

Heart lodged in his throat, Five sees Luther collapsing to his knees, hears Allison's raw cry of _anguish_ as Luther's head is bashed in through the brutal force of the enemy's fists, skull caving in as if it was nothing... 

_Seconds, not decades._

Five teleports next to Luther, immediately slices the member with an efficient gash to the neck _exactly_ when he didn't expect it. Blood splatters onto Five's face, hot and it _burns_. 

Five couldn't care less about any of it. Doesn't even think, acting by instinct on autopilot. Luther lives. But Diego -

Diego quickly runs out of knives. Crows swarm him, summoned by a female Sparrow Academy member. Crows acting as if they hadn't eaten in decades. 

The crows sweeps down in a wild frenzy, a whirlwind of chaos promising death, each with flecks of dried crimson blood painting their beaks from their last kill.

The look of outright horror in Diego's eyes as he reaches to his belt, only to realise he's out of knives. Five goes in, teleports in with no hesitation, but Diego's beyond help. 

Eyeballs, are the first to go, next is the delicate flesh -

_Seconds, not decades._

Five delivers a faster kill. When Luther's enemy expects it. Five takes a brutal knife to his leg, but he simultaneously delivers the same efficient slice to the neck with manic speed. Next, Five teleports to the crow witch, breath stuttering through his lips, _there's not_ _enough air in his lungs_. She quickly goes down as Five desperately attempts to catch his breath - 

Vanya _screams_ Allison's name. Five, the rest of his brothers, snaps their attention to Allison. Allison, who's no match for them. The Sparrow Academy already possesses the advantage of knowing their powers far in advance. One look at Allison, and - and Ben rips out her throat with _It_. 

_Seconds, not decades._

Five brings the knife down desperately into Luther's enemy's neck. This time, Five takes a knife to his stomach. Five blinks away, heart _thundering_ erratically in his chest, staggers into the crow witch, trips her and breaks her neck. The knife _tears_ , the blood loss is too much, Five teleports a second too late, and barely manages to catch Allison as she goes down. 

But she lives. Diego and Luther are free to help her. 

But Vanya...

Vanya _freaks_ , sees Allison goes down and she _blasts_ Ben headfirst into the nearest concrete wall. Blood rains down, blood amidst torn flesh. Vanya blasts Ben, and Klaus, _Klaus_ who'd been standing nearby, too close, accidentally too close, attempts to move away, realisation dawning in his expression, but _it's too late for Klaus_ \- 

_Seconds, not decades._

Five grips his shotgun tighter, clutches it so tight it almost shakes, his knuckles deathly _white_. 

In all the altered timelines, Five never managed to save _all_ of them. At least one, just one of his siblings ended up crippled, handicapped, or _dead_. Five _fails_ them, over and over and _over_. Klaus, Diego, Vanya, _Luther_ \- 

_Seconds, not decades -_

"I always knew you were the special one," Reginald muses, unfazed by the fact that Five had a shotgun literally pointing directly at his head. 

Five's vision swims alarmingly. There's even more blood, and Five can taste it _everywhere_ in his mouth. Exhaustion has always been his old friend in the apocalypse. Five had learnt to live with it, _been forced to_ , but this time, this exhaustion felt different - felt _strange_. 

_This_ time, his heart is threatening to explode in his chest, thudding so erratically in his ribcage Five isn't sure how it isn't giving out just yet. 

"And what, pray tell, will you do next?" Reginald muses, aloud. 

Distantly, Five feels blood trickling out of his nose. The exhaustion, the icy chill enveloping him from the insides. Too _much blood_ \- 

Five is _drowning_ in blood and decay. 

Blood. So much blood in the apocalypse. Burning bodies, wet blood, then _drying_ blood, after the heat evaporated everything, mercilessly swept through everything, left _nothing but ashes_ -

 _"You've overexerted yourself, Number Five." The Handler coos, once upon a time. Unwanted hands, wandering lower, as Five forces himself to stay awake, lying in that disgusting motel bed, desperation clawing him to conjure up options, options,_ options _-_

_Seconds, not decades._

"You can't win this fight," Five grits out, as his vision tilts and _darkens_. 

Blood slowly trickles out the corner of his mouth as he speaks. 

Shit, shit, _shit_ -

"And why is that, boy?" Reginald asks, stoically ignoring his perilous circumstances.

...Once, Five remembers it was utterly pitch black in the apocalypse, a darkness nothing could penetrate. It was an eclipse, an unfortunate, poorly timed eclipse. In the darkness, Five had been forced to feel his way in blind terror back to his temporary makeshift accomodation, heart lodged deep in his throat the entire time, fear a constant companion.

The festering injury on his leg, the brink of starvation, the neverending darkness and the equally dark thoughts and _despair_... Delores had never been so afraid. During those moments, the moments Five wholeheartedly believed would be his last, he couldn't find his shelter _, couldn't get his supplies, everything fucking hurts, Five was dying_ , and all Five could think of was his siblings. 

_And what, pray tell, will you do next?_

And it's exactly like chess, all over again. Back in their insane childhood training, Reginald would go over every possible instances, nitpicking at every single thing that could go wrong. 

Five was expected to have an answer for everything. But this time, Five's doesn't have a queen, _never did_ , his bishops and knights reduced to pawns, and all his remaining moves were leading to the opponent's checkmate. 

Reginald had all the power, his King is protected, his Queen is still standing, his pawns all standing as bishops and knights. 

The only difference, the only difference is...

Five readjusts his grip, clutching his shotgun tighter. Not budging the slightest, masking his features expertly. Slowly, Five's mind blanks, losing his train of thought. His vision is dimming, his sight is vanishing and all he can do is to desperately make out Reginald's outline.

Get through this, Number Five. There is no choice. He had to. 

_Because Five had gone through literal hell and back to finally see his siblings breathing again. Had forced himself to get up, to grit his teeth and just bear it, crawl to his camp, to just_ survive _to see his siblings he so desperately craved, just one last time._ _There's no way in any scenario will he let his siblings' lives slip meaninglessly through his fingertips again when they're standing right_ there _._

"Five, what the hell are you doing?" Luther hisses, eyes wide. His gaze is darting between Dad and Five's shotgun. "It's _Dad_."

The shotgun is in his hand. The chess game never ends. 

Five barely acknowledges him. In his peripheral vision, he attempts to single out the fifth member of the Sparrow Academy. The masked member with an entirely average demeanor, and now Five sees it.

In their gloved hands, a chess piece. The very same one from Five's memories with Reginald.

"Let us go," Five bites out, slowly. "And everyone in this room _makes it out alive_." 

...That very same masked person is the reason at least one of them never lives. Each time, Five just _can't_ predict their actions, each and every time it was different. Five _couldn't guess._

Five grips the shotgun tighter, sweat - _or blood?_ \- plastering his hair to his forehead. 

"So. Is that your move, boy?"

Yes, Five blankly thinks. For one, just one goddamn time in his life, Five desperately wishes it was right, that the universe wouldn't laugh and spit in his face again.

_Is that your move, Number Five? Reginald barks._

"Very well, then."

 _Five hated chess. Hated it whenever Reginald forced him to play it as punishment for days on end. Always,_ hated _it_ -

Something sharp _pierces_ into Five's stomach from behind him.

Pain, agonising _white hot_ pain explodes in his entire being, all stemming from the center of his stomach. 

The agony is out of the world, yet achingly familiar, both from his time in the apocalypse and, essentially, a captive in the Commission.

 _Five_ _stares at the chessboard, as Reginald makes a move. ...One more move to checkmate -_

Five's breath stutters, blood trickling out of the corner of his lips, as whatever the hell it is, is pulled out agonizingly slow, dragging, _tearing_ Five's flesh with it. 

" _Five_!" 

" _Shit_ , Five -" 

"No, _Five_!" 

_Everything moves in slow motion. Five hadn't even seen it coming. Reginald looks back at Five, unfazed. In his hands, the chess piece, the one the masked Sparrow Academy member clutched, the one that used to belong to Five. Reginald places the piece down, on his side._

_Slowly, the chess pieces fade, each swirling into the darkness, along with Five's memories of the training with Reginald. The black and white merges confusingly with the blood and ashes in an empty, decaying world -_

Five is yanked back to the present, the agonising white hot pain slamming back in full force.

Raw screams of utter horror erupts from all of his siblings' throat. Immediately, all of them, every one of them, are taking a hasty step forward, each rushing to reach Five. 

Klaus, Luther, Allison, Vanya, _Diego_ \- 

Every. Single. One of them, ignoring, turning their goddamn _backs_ to the Sparrow Academy, all of whom simultaneously raised their hands, smirking, calling on their individual powers.

Gritting his teeth, bracing himself, Five clenches his fists, rips apart the time and space continuum, blood pooling in his mouth.

_Minutes, not decades._

On April 2nd, the siblings lands in the Hargreeves' mansion.

Five staggers forward, crashing to his knees. Dry heaving dark, crimson blood onto the Persian rug. 

" _Shit_ , Five?!"

"What the _fuck_?! Five, what -?" Diego falls to his knees, catching Five before he collapses face first into the puddle of his own darkening blood.

"I knew you'd show up eventually." Reginald muses, gaze fixated solely on Five. All of the Sparrow Academy, Five dimly realises, are gazing intently at Five, unsurprised at his broken state of being.

"I've always known you were the special one." 

It was a game of chess. Five has never won. Everything had always been stacked against him. 

The masked Sparrow Academy takes one, unhestiant step forward -

Five pushes, digs deep into his nonexistent reserves, for anything, any inkling of power left in him. 

White hot pain tears through Five's body. Something in the center of his being _breaks_. 

Heart thudding erratically, barely conscious, Five rips the time and space continuum apart, teleports all of five his siblings _out of there._


	2. Just One Move To Checkmate

Heart thudding erratically, barely conscious, Five rips the time and space continuum apart, teleports all five of his siblings _out of there._

...A second later, amidst the frenzy of the highway, the Umbrella Academy siblings _crash_ in an excruciating heap onto the unforgiving asphalt, a few feet in the air above the ground.

Five misses his mark _entirely_. 

Heart pounding, sickening realisation hits Five. Barely conscious, crashing to his knees, _Five_ _can't get up_ \- 

Less than a mile away from the Hargreeves' mansion, Five had teleported his siblings into the _middle of the goddamn highway._

The cold, biting wind smacks Five's cheeks, savagely clawing at his uniform blazer, Five's gasping, forcing himself to _just stay conscious_ , to get to his siblings, just move, move, _move_ -

Frantic horns blares _everywhere,_ attacking Five's ringing eardrums from all sides. Tyres screeches ear-piercingly against the asphalt. Scattered around him, his siblings staggers to stand up, terror masking their frantic words as they scramble upwards. Luther's dragging Allison, Klaus and Vanya scrabbling to back up, Diego's swearing, yelling at everyone to _move_ \- 

Blood _gushes_ through his lips, Five doesn't bother to wipe it away, all of Five's senses are _screaming_ at him that there's a truck skidding, swerving and the collision course is heading _straight at Five_ \- 

Five freezes, eyes wide as he sees his death in front of his very eyes. His legs refuses, _can't move_ , his energy reserves _depleted_ \- 

Diego _barrels_ into Five.

His stomach _somersaults_ , his head rattling like a savage game of pinball in his skull. Five tumbles harshly, shoulders, elbows, _knees,_ _whatever flesh_ _unprotected_ by fabric, scraping against the loose rocks of the asphalt, digging into his exposed flesh - 

The truck narrowly misses Five and Diego, the wind sharply slashing their faces, cackling at the close call. Five crashes to a stop, drags his murderously pounding head up just in time to see Vanya and Klaus.

Vanya, who flashes, and the White Violin's in her place, a protective bubble whirling ferociously around her and Klaus, manipulated from the snarling wind and dangerous, _oftentimes fatal_ love to _protect -_

The truck slams directly into her and Klaus.

 _Screams_. Terrified screams from opened windows as the crash starts a sickening chain of _death_ and desolation.

...Smoke rapidly fills Five's lungs, clouding his vision from his siblings. Vanya disappears behind the thriving fumes of smoke, her outline vanishing onto nothingness. Diego's yelling, Allison's panicked voice is so distant, so _far,_ Klaus' answering call a faint wisp fading into the air. The putrid smell of gasoline, leaking from an upturned vehicle assaulting Five's senses - 

_Smoke as far as the eye can see, burning buildings alight in bright flames. One by one, it collapses as its base crumbles under the savage, cruel fire, the first natural fire in years._

_Sprinting back to his makeshift camp, Five sees flames greedily licking the skies in the apocalypse, roaring in unchecked triumph as the rest of the surviving buildings continue to burn. The rain falls reservedly as ashes, Five desperately attempting to keep his sanity, clawing harshly at his head, refuses to hyperventilate in the ashes the second he realises his crucial, fatal_ mistake _-_

" _Five?_! Five, _shit_!"

 _Everything that was_ precious _was there, his siblings' bodies were there, a few feet away his dwindling supplies were_ there _in flames, Five realised he had teleported all of his precious things all in one place -_

Five _heaves_. Violent tremors shakes his entire being, his very core, and Five is captive to the feral grips of pure agony. A strong hand comes down, grasping Five's shoulders as Five trembles, keeps him up as Five hacks up darkening blood, expelling everything in his guts, including what feels like the entirety of his blood supply in this fragile, _useless_ body.

Dark crimson blood streams out of Five's mouth, soaking his collar shirt as Five gasps for air, _the choking won't stop_ , Five's heart feels like icy tendrils is wringing it so tightly in his ribcage that Five wonders wildly if he's caused irreversible repair to his body. 

_It's too late. Five pants, ashes descending on his hair. The supplies are gone. Collapsing to his knees, Five can't bring himself to move. What was left are the freshly burning scars, easily merging with the rest of injuries littered all over Five's body, as flames licks up his sleeves, his elbows, anything uncovered by fabric when Five desperately teleported himself into the fire to scavenge what was left._

_It was irreversible. The mistake that might just be the final nail in the coffin. Five won't be able to avert the apocalypse, he's gradually losing his sanity, his brilliant_ mind _that's all that's left in an empty, decaying, rotting world and his dead siblings will stay_ dead, _staring lifelessly, fingers outstretched, and inside Five there's guilt, guilt,_ guilt _-_

" _Guys_ , something's seriously _wrong_ with Five -!" 

" _Luther!"_ Vanya shrieks, her usually subdued voice cracking in fever pitch, the loudest Five's ever heard her.

...Vanya? Luther. His _siblings_ \- 

Five _rips_ his eyes open, clenches his fist, desperately forcing himself to stop, _stop coughing up blood_ , he's not there, _he's here_ , clawing at his blood soaked sweater vest, his siblings are _alive_ , just in time to see - 

Luther's broken body lying on the tarmac. Unmoving.

No.

_No - !_

Instinctively, Five clenches his fists, knuckles deathly white, blood streaming past his gritted teeth, dripping seamlessly down his chin.

A weak, pathetic crackle of electric blue stutters around his hands as Five's vision darkens. Seconds, not decades. _Seconds, not decades -_

_What, pray tell, will you do next?_

Heart thudding erratically in his chest, drenched in his own blood, Five has to force himself awake, make sure none of his siblings dies, this isn't checkmate, _this can't be_ _checkmate,_ locate more supplies, this isn't the _end_ , it's not working, there's _nothing left,_ _Five's strength is giving out, the smoke is too much, Five is slowly dying as his own body eats itself from within as it withers from starvation -_

The smell of pouring gasoline hits Five like a icy slap in the face. 

Wait. _Gasoline?_

Five's heart _plummets_ to his stomach. 

Smoke billows in fumes, the fire that's fanning from the wind, beginning to spread like a sickness into the pure sky, Five's frantic gaze searching, finding, _following_ the trail of pure dripping _gasoline_ \- 

Five snaps his gaze to the left.

...Just in time to see the truck _explode_ next to him.

* * *

_Everything - hurts_. 

Five... has made a mistake.

Five's consciousness blinks in and out of disorientating flashes. He might've been heavily submerged in water, ears buzzing, the world a million miles away. Once again, the universe refuses him the luxury of a sound mind, his final weapon left in the decaying world of ashes, decay and just endless _suffering_.

_"What will you do, Number Five?" Reginald barks. "It's your turn to move!"_

His ears are ringing, there's blood pooling in his mouth. He needs to turn to his side, otherwise it'll block his airways, he'd choke on it. 

_Ah. He must've blacked out, lost consciousness from the lack of adequate substance to keep moving forward, to survive. He needs - to get up. Replenish his supplies before the sun sets and the coldness sweeps the wasteland. Before his strength finally gives out, before he passes out again._

_The nauseating smell of gasoline. It was an empty car with a full tank of gasoline, the only one within miles in the wasteland. It had caught fire against the reflective surface as the sun beat mercilessly down on it as Five scavenges, already weakened, beaten down by starvation. But Five should've checked._

_He should've_ checked _._

_"You should've checked, Number Five!"_

_Five stares at the chess piece. Everything was confusing, it didn't make sense. His King was in a precarious situation. And the ringing in his ears refuses to recede._

_"Your fatal mistake, Number Five, is that you fail to sacrifice even a mere pawn! You refused to leave it! Had you done it, simply left one to the mercy of their circumstances, your King wouldn't even dream of being in this position!"_

...There's something sharp protruding from Five's stomach. The harsh asphalt digs into his back as Five gasps in air through his gritted teeth. There's smoke filling his lungs, the _distant_ , faraway sounds of car alarms...

_Five - made a mistake._

" - ive? Five?!" 

A strangled groan tears out of Five's throat. _Something's_ wrong _._ There's icy wind _everywhere, Five can't find shelter against it, he was so cold, ice in the insides._ Pairs of familiar hands are on his shoulders, gently brushing his cheeks, before it frantically lowers to his wrists, pressing firmly against his pulse. Everything _hurts,_ and Five's breaths comes in strangled gasps, until blood blocks his airway, and Five is _choking_. 

"Five? S-shit, Five, don't - don't move -" And he's quickly being turned onto his side - 

_Ah, that's right. The gasoline had exploded while Five was scavenging in the wasteland, blasting Five twenty feet away, crashing through the window of a collapsing building hanging solely by its teeth. The glass, weak from years of disuse, shatters from impact. Five_ _is falling to the ground, hits the ground, hits not_ just _the ground -_

 _Five had never experienced such_ agony _before._

 _Delores had practically_ screamed _as Five plummets straight into a steel pole. It pierces his abdomen, slices through clean to the other side of his flesh._

Weakly, Five's eyes flicker behind his eyelids, wrestling to muster even the tiniest strength to open it. He needs - to stay conscious - to _survive_ \- 

Agonizingly slow, his senses are returning one by one in confusing lucidity. In his pain addled mind, the screeching car alarms _pierces_ in his ears, and Five's vaguely aware there's metal protruding from his stomach. 

...It needs to come out. 

He - he's done this before. 

_The pain was_ incredible _._

"Five, is he - _is he breathing_?" Vanya's breathless corpse to his left. He _thinks_ she sounds vaguely to his left. The fever is kicking in, Five's beginning to hallucinate. His hallucinations always, _always_ starts with Vanya. "Do we take - take it out? What do - _what do we do?!"_

Five attempts to latch his wavering consciousness to Vanya's voice, his dead, shrill sister's voice. It was simultaneously a curse and a blessing. A blessing, because Five can feverish pretend Vanya was real, as he lies there uselessly, eyes half lidded in pain, can pretend that he wouldn't die _alone_. A curse, because Vanya would suddenly vanish and Five would _realize_ , because like the others, she was dead, dead, _dead_ -

No. Five grits his teeth. He'd never found her body, Vanya's alive, his siblings are _alive_ , everyone is alive, Five was _here_ , he wasn't there, _he was_...

_Five was..._

_Five was curled into himself, the ashes settling around him as he breathes sharply through gritted teeth_ _. Tensed, coiled up in excruciating pain, wishing,_ wishing _that this wasn't his reality. All the while, desperately attempts to brace himself. It was insane, the idea of what he was contemplating to do, as his weak, shaking hands grips the metal pole. It was irrevocably dangerous and insane, reckless, but Five grits his teeth, braces himself -_

"Oh my god, the kid -" A gasp, a panicked, breathlessly unfamiliar deep voice. "Is he... is he _alive_?"

"I - I heard a rumor, _you gave us your car_." Allison's voice drifts into the haze of Five's head. Desperately, Five attempts to open his eyes, attempts to break free of the disorientating haze to sharp consciousness - to _survive - to_ get to where his siblings were, he - he can't afford to - _to_ _get_ \- 

_Distracted. Five can't afford to get distracted. He needed,_ had _to get the steel pole out of him. He couldn't be stuck in this collapsing building, he'll_ die _. If he doesn't get it out, Five will die, he'll fail his siblings, and his dead siblings will forever stare accusingly at him, eyes already rotted ages ago, hollowed out by insects, and still Five couldn't_ leave _their sides, desperately didn't want to be_ alone _, the only person he had left was Delores who's frantically screaming at Five to just_ survive _-_

"Five? Five hang in there, okay? We - we're going to get you help -" 

_...It's not Delores. It can't be Delores._

_Delores is silent for the first time in years. She says nothing, offers no other options as Five grits down his teeth, throat dry, parched, Five haven't had water in a two and a half days, the blood a strange sensation of liquid in his mouth._

_Gasping, Five grasps the pole tighter, readjusts it in his cold, weakening palms -_

Beneath him, the ground shakes. The metal pole _moves,_ shifts in Five's flesh, and Five's breath stutters, refusing the urge to vomit as his entire being teeters at the _edges of unbearable pain._

 _No. This wasn't the worst pain Five had experienced. At the Commission, The Handler, she'd - she'd reached into Five's surgically opened body, fresh from the apocalypse. Lying on the surgical table, Five struggles to breathe, teeth gritted, he can't do anything,_ won't do anything, _refuses to be sent back to the apocalypse_ , _as she digs in deep, and Five_ lets _her, her blood lips whispering a soft ultimatum -_

The apocalyptic wasteland _trembles_ abruptly underneath Five's body again, and waves after waves of agonizing pain racks through Five's weak, _broken_ body. Five groans, desperately craves for the sweet bliss of unconsciousness again, wants to go under, wants _The Handler to stop, just stop -_

Five grits his teeth, tastes blood everywhere in his mouth, eyes flickering behind his shut eyelids.

Five swallows, _swallows thick blood down his parched throat,_ _Five needs to move, he refuses to move, through the haze of pain, sees the Handler leans in, swallowing Five's vision. Five just gives, gives,_ gives _, and the Handlers just takes, takes,_ takes _, and Five refuses to move, can't afford to be trapped in the apocalypse again, not when he has a way to save his siblings, his family, and the earthquake keeps rumbling underneath him -_

...No, not an earthquake. Five's breath stutters, head lolling, and he realize in the haze of pain that he's being moved securely, though strangely tentatively. He feels a firm, hot chest against his cheeks - 

_Five grits his teeth, refusing to utter even a sound as the Handler digs her fingers through his open wounds at the end of every single mission,_ hears Klaus' soft cooing as a strangled groan escapes his lips, _as_ _the_ _Handler's lips breathes in his ears, doesn't let Five clean up first, a smile with crimson lips as she presses agonizingly into his exposed gunshot wound,_ Allison's gentle fingers threading through his hair in comfort as Five bites back a soft groan filled with _agony_ , arching into someone's lap, _arching against_ _the Handler's_ _chest, the pain is ungodly, and Five can't stand it, he couldn't black out, he needs to just_ survive, _can't when he's this weak, this malnourished, this much in horrific_ pain _-_

 _Darkness. Absolute_ darkness _._

 _Blood drips slowly from his lips, down his neck, slips into his collared shirt. Five stands, rooted in front of the motel room. He stares, gaze intently fixated on room 13A, can't_ bring _himself to enter._

_Breathing in steadily, Five doesn't bother to drag the back of his hand across his chin to wipe the blood away, lets it drip, gathering into a sickening, small puddle on the hallway carpet._

_The door cracks open, and Five levels his expertly masked gaze to the source of relentless suffering._

_...After all. The Handler likes Five covered in blood -_

"Shit -" Diego's voice to his right _, and all of a sudden, as Five snaps his gaze away from the shadows of the motel room promising pain, to see the blinding light, sees his brother standing there, reaching out an open hand to him that Five so desperately wants to take -_

"Is that - is that Dad and _the_ _Sparrow Academy?"_ Klaus' voice from somewhere above him. Above him? His siblings are somewhere above him...

 _All of a sudden, the ground beneath Five vanishes, and Five staggers_ _forward, crashing to his knees. Dry heaving dark, crimson blood onto the Persian rug._

_Back in the Sparrow Academy, Five drags his mercilessly pounding head up, sees Reginald rising to his feet, by the fireplace._

_"I knew you'd show up eventually."_

_...His siblings. His very much alive, soon to be dead siblings, surrounds Five, warmth radiating from their very much alive bodies, oblivious to their rapidly impending deaths and Five's relentless, endless_ suffering _._

 _Five's breath_ catches _in his throat._

 _It's a slow moving_ nightmare _._

_Trapped in the confines of his own mind, Five sees Luther's cracked skull, as his head is brutally bashed in front of Five as he rewinds time, fists clenched, his heart sinking like stone to his gut, sees in excruciating, vivid detail as the crows' beaks rips apart Diego's flesh as Five staggers to Diego's side, falling to his knees in the bloody swarm, can't rip his gaze away from Allison's torn, shredded throat as Five teleports in too late in time to catch Allison, her frantic, watery gaze locking into Five's in a silent plea in fear and pain as she desperately clutches his sweater vest, choking, drowning in her own blood, heart thundering in his chest, eyes wide in sheer horror as he feels Klaus splattering all over his face and body, already dead, a raining accumulation of flesh and blood -_

Five... needs to wake up, he needs to help his currently _alive_ siblings, soon-to-be dead siblings, he needs to _survive_ to keep them alive - 

_"What, pray tell, will you do next?"_

Five _snaps_ open his eyes. Murky grey suddenly splashes in sharp, crystal clear colour, Five's senses _screaming_ bloody murder at him as his consciousness _slams back in full force -_

His siblings are crammed inside a van, tumbling down the highway at full speed, save for Vanya who's driving. Five's lying limp on Diego's lap, there's shrapnel lodged in his stomach, the stray steel that ripped itself from the truck as it _exploded_ \- 

Five _gasps_ , choking in nothing, in everything -

 _Shit_. White hot, agony stabs Five everywhere as Five attempts to just _breathe_.

Five opens his mouth, or would've if his throat was still working. Diego, who's urgently pressing his ripped jacket around Five's wound tightly, _not the Handler's fingers digging in agonizingly deep_ , is attempting to keep it in place, immediately snaps his gaze to Five, bright with horror and concern.

" _Fuck_ , Five. Don't - don't move, okay? You're still - bleeding." 

_Shit_. He - hasn't stopped bleeding, yet. Distantly, Five recognizes the fatal implication of it. 

Five reaches out, grips one of his siblings, _any of them,_ the pain was _unbelievable_ , his fingertips barely brushing against one of their jackets. The smell of the remnants from the explosion clinging to his siblings' clothes assaults his senses, the smoke from the subsequent car collisions waters his eyes. 

_The Sparrow Academy, Dad, and his siblings impending deaths if they can't escape to safety -_

He needs to - stay _present_. They need to - 

A strangled groan _rips_ out of Five's throat as Diego slowly but securely tightens the strip of his jacket around Five's shrapnel wound. It's _agony_ , and waves of pain washed over Five in droves. Five grits his teeth, breathing through it, and it takes _everything_ in Five to not black out, to stay conscious. Distantly, Five's aware of Klaus helping, tentatively avoiding the damn shrapnel in Five's stomach, doesn't realise the movement of the van is _jolting_ the shrapnel deeper into his abdomen. 

"Hey, guys, little Five is bleeding, like a _lot_..." Klaus breathes, eyes watery as he gazes at Five. 

... _Irrelevant_. Five thinks, teeth gritted. Everything is irrelevant, except for his siblings to _survive_.

"Five, you're - gonna be okay, I - _shit_." Diego bites out, breathing fast. There's blood on Diego's forehead, and more so on his chest. 

_Oh. No, that - was Five's blood -_

Five bites out a strangled groan, head digging back into Diego's lap as Diego presses more firmly against the wound. Breathing through gritted teeth, riding out the pain, Five's weak eyes, glazed, meets Diego's gaze, who's demeanour is just short of a full blown panic. 

"Five, I - _shit_. The Sparrow Academy's still after us, on our tails. What do we - "

A flash of Luther's broken body lying on the tarmac, unmoving. _His cracked skull, bashed in head, Allison's raw cry of_ anguish _._

First things first. Everyone needs to _survive._

"L-Luther -" Five starts, or attempts to, before coughs racks his entire body -

 _Shit,_ Five's body tenses. Everything's raw, he feels like he's been chewed up by razor sharp teeth and crudely spat out. If there truly was a way to die purely from pain, Five dimly thinks this could be it. Although, the amount of blood loss was more likely to kill him off.

Just - _exist_. 

_Five - had done that before, struggling to breathe and just exist with the pain. Back in that disgusting motel room in 13A, on his knees, chest heaving, and all he had left was the_ Handler _casually kneeling down next to him, offering sweet promises of help in return for -_

"Five?! Oh my god, F-Five -" Vanya's breathless voice fades in and out from the driver's seat. Five's vaguely realises his vision is darkening again, threatening to pull him under. He was so, so damn cold. "Don't speak, don't speak. We need to -' 

" _Shit_. Okay, fuck." Diego swallows, breathing fast. Through the haze of pain, Five sees Diego grabs Klaus' arm, gripping tightly into his brother's sleeves. "Now, we - we check Luther. Bend his arm back in place. Klaus, you with me, yeah -?" 

As soon as his brothers ducks away, Diego shifting Five gently off of him, disappears from his view. Five pants softly, turns his head weakly to see Luther's broken body lying limp next to him on Allison's lap - 

The van _jolts_ , and Five bites back a strangled scream. The shrapnel lodged itself firmly in his abdomen, tearing flesh inside. 

Panting in short bursts, Five screws his eyes shut. Vaguely, he's aware of a sudden commotion around his siblings as Five brings his trembling hands to the shrapnel. 

The tip just _barely_ peeks out, blood oozing from the opening, and Five feels sick at the notion that he'll have to dig it out with whatever remaining supplies he has left. 

"...What - _what the hell is that_? ...Crows?" 

"It looks like they're - Wait, what are they - _doing -_ " Allison's confused, voice, packed with uncertainty and breathlessness. 

Crows.

A flash of Diego's hollowed eye sockets, flesh ripping apart like butter. 

_Eyeballs, are the first to go, next is the delicate flesh -_

Five rips his eyes open up, teeth clenched, biting through the agony. ... _Shit_. A flash of crows by the windows, before it vanishes from view. The crows summoned by the female Sparrow Academy's member. Their sharp beaks and claws are their ultimate weapons.

The siblings are driving full speed down the highway, way too _fast_ for the Sparrow Academy to catch up - 

The crows are dispatched first to - 

...The crows are headed straight for the tyres. 

The van jolts again, and Five grabs Diego's jacket. It slips, Five barely even musters the strength to attempt again, already imagining the crows' claws beginning to slice through the tyres. "D-Diego - t-the _tyres_ \- "

Diego's kneeling next to him immediately. "Five, don't fucking _move_ \- "

" _T-tyres_ \- " Five bites out, weak hands clutching his stomach. It doesn't even begin to staunch the blood from leaking out between his fingers. Winded, Five's head is spinning, dangerously so. Blood trickles down his chin, and Five feels Diego's hands on him, gaze tearing _away_ from the goddamn crows - 

The van jolts, and Five staggers uselessly to the side. Would've slammed against it, had it not been for Diego's strong arms, caging him protectively. Heart thudding erratically, Five weakly grips Diego's sleeves, vaguely hears Vanya curses from the driver's seat.

The - _goddamn_ \- 

"They're - they're puncturing the tyres - " she says, voice cracking in a gasp. 

_"Fuck."_ Diego readjusts his grip on Five as Five curves in on itself, leaning heavily against Diego as he breathes in through clenched teeth. Bitterly aware of their increasingly worsening predicament, but his _energy levels -_

"Vanya, you gotta speed up -" 

"I _can't_ , this - this is the fastest it can go, I can't, it's impossible - "

"Why the _fuck_ does dear old dad want us _dead?!"_ Klaus yells. He's so close to Five, back at Five's side as Five's vision darkens dangerously. Klaus gets in his way, Five still desperately tracking the crows' movements, past the darkness in the edge of his vision, head spinning as Klaus attempts to shield him protectively against the crows' beak slicing away at the glass, and -

_A flash of crows sweeping down in a wild frenzy, a whirlwind of chaos promising death, each with flecks of dried crimson blood painting their beaks from their last kill -_

_"And what, pray tell, will you do next?"_

Five can barely breathe.

_Five - has made a mistake._

_"Your fatal mistake, Number Five, is that you fail to sacrifice even a mere pawn! You refused to leave it! Had you done it, simply left one to the mercy of their circumstances, your King wouldn't even dream of being in this position!"_

"That's - that's a _\- shit, Vanya, you're going to crash - "_

Five snaps his darkening gaze to the windshield as Vanya drives right into a tree. 

* * *

Five's ears ring for the second time that day. 

Eyes flickering open, Five sees Diego shoving himself off the ground. Starts beelining for Five and Luther, until he catches sight of Klaus.

Klaus who's leg is bleeding, a white bone protruding jarringly out of his flesh. Five swallows, sees the unmistakable excruciating _pain_ in Klaus' usually bright eyes. 

_"Your fatal mistake, Number Five, is that you fail to sacrifice even a mere pawn! You refused to leave it! Had you done it, simply left one to the mercy of their circumstances, your King wouldn't even dream of being in this - "_

_Shut up, shut up -_

"Vanya!" Allison's voice bites out from the left. Five tears his pounding gaze to Vanya. Vanya, the White Violin, slammed against the wheel, knocking her out cold. Allison is scrambling out of the vehicle, sprinting out to fall down on her knees next to her sister. The van is crashed, its front wrecked beyond recognition.

Smoke rises towards the sky, just like the day Five realises in raw horror that he's stuck in the apocalypse. 

_...Just one more move to checkmate._

The sounds of his siblings' harsh breathing fills the air. 

Slowly, Diego raises his gaze to his siblings, swallowing hard. Grim realisation is dawning in his eyes. 

"I'll stall them." Diego says, breathing fast. Quickly, he reaches behind his belt, counting his knives. Counts his dwindling supply of knives, and Five sees only a few, inadequate number remains.

Slowly, Five's throat closes up. Five breathes, teeth gritted in pain. His mind's eye already traitorously replaying his siblings' fourth, fifth, _sixth_ deaths in front of him. 

...Diego - wouldn't make it. Perhaps he'll give them a few precious seconds to escape. If they somehow scattered, the Sparrow Academy'll pick them off one by one, easy pickings, but _maybe_ some of them can _survive_. Either way, they'd have to sacrifice Diego if they wanted to chance to save at least _some_ of their siblings. 

The question is ultimately, is that a price worth paying?

Blankly, Five mentally sees the pieces of chess appear in a hazy mirage in front of him. There are pawns, scattered precariously together, merging - _overlapping -_ his vision of his alive, _warmth radiating from their bodies_ , soon-to-be dead siblings, _grey hands outstretched in ashes and decay_ , as Five desperately racks his rapidly disintegrating mind to conjure up with a better alternative, a better _plan_.

For _all_ of his siblings to _survive_. 

"I'll - I'll come with you," Klaus whispers, his strained, horrified gaze fixated at anything but his leg. He's breathing in gasps, glances at Five, back at Diego, face depleted of all colour. 

_Two pawns edges dangerously near the opposing pieces._

In Five's peripheral vision, he sees Allison shakes her head firmly, her voice resolute as she clutches Vanya's limp body. " _No_. You'll both won't make it."

 _Some of the pawns,_ Five realises, breaths coming in pants, _will have to be sacrificed - for the others to remain. To_ survive _-_

_"Your fatal mistake, Number Five, is that you fail to sacrifice even a mere pawn! You refused to leave it!"_

Diego shakes his head, his breath stuttering. "S-Shut up, Klaus. Allison, try to wake Vanya and Luther. Maybe - maybe they can -"

The shrapnel wound slowly bleeds from his stomach. Five barely has the energy to lift his head. His powers are depleted. _Useless_. 

The knight, bishops, rooks approaches them. 

Five's blood grows _cold_. 

In the distance, the Sparrow Academy are descending. Crows are descending in droves, each not promising a quick kill. 

_And what, pray tell, will you do next?_

Five's breaths are coming out in pants. The mist is coming in thick fumes. His insides are so cold, his organs failing as he breathes each stuttered breath. Distantly, Five realizes he can barely feel his limbs. It's exactly reminiscent of the cruel, unforgiving winters in the wastelands of the apocalypse. 

_Delores would be telling him to survive. For his siblings._

_...Always for his siblings._ After all the _shit_ he'd suffer through, to get back to his siblings, to keep them _alive_. Five swallows hard. _This - can't be checkmate._

Diego clenches his fists, expression grim, before he shoves himself off the asphalt.

Klaus is stiff next to him, one of his hand wrapped around Five. Then, he too struggles to stand, swallowing audibly. Allison's quiet, tears slowly trail down her cheeks. She's clutches Vanya close to her chest, bravely tucking her head into her neck, as if she could take away the terror of dying.

This can't be checkmate. His options are _limited_ , the King is in a precarious position. _His pawns_ \- 

"If we die, we die together." Allison says, before she presses a soft kiss against Vanya. Resolute, she stands up, back straightening bravely as she firmly faces the Sparrow Academy head on.

Everyone, every one of his siblings, except Five. 

_"What will you do, Number Five?" Reginald barks. "It's your turn to move!"_

Five screws his eyes shut, fists clenching tightly, digging into his palms so tightly it draws blood. Distantly, Five sees his blood soaked sweater vest, and the shrapnel lodged in his abdomen, still oozing blood. Less blood now, dangerously so. 

_..._ Five grits his teeth, clenching his fists. Blood barely trickles out of his mouth, it's getting harder to breathe. ...Five can barely _move_. 

_"You've bought yourself time, Number Five. Prolonging but an inevitable checkmate."_

In the confines of his mind, Five mentally turns the chess board horizontally, rapidly at different angles. The Knights are descending, the bishop not far behind, and the _Queen_ \- 

"What - what's the plan?" Allison whispers half-heartedly to Diego, gaze solemnly fixated at the incoming Sparrow Academy. Distantly, Five vaguely hears Diego desperately attempting to pinpoint their weaknesses, wondering whether to use his knives on the incoming crows, or for the Sparrow Academy when they inevitably descend upon them.

Diego doesn't _realize_. 

...There are no weaknesses. Unbeknownst to his siblings, Five had already _witnessed_ Diego's fight play out with the bloodthirsty, salivating crows. Ripped flesh, hollowed eyes and a torturously slow death in the tune of horrific screams.

Klaus is silent. Of course he is, shivering as his brother's body is alight in pain, no weapons, power made utterly obsolete. No ghosts to call upon, none within miles. 

Diego can't _rely_ on the few remaining knives he has left.

Allison can't _rumour_ crows. 

...Luther and Vanya are knocked out cold.

Five is _dying_. 

_"Ah. Your options are limited, your movements restrained… You're out of moves, Number Five. What will you do?"_

Five's involuntarily shaking now, breaths coming out in pants, his body exhausted. He's sure now, that something's broken beyond repair in his body. Breathing is a struggle, a chore that he has to actively remind himself to do, just like back then in the apocalypse, countless of times. 

Five breathes.

 _"It's your turn, Number Five. What_ _will you do?!"_

_The chess game never ends._

His siblings prepares themselves for the inevitable. At the original doomsday in 1963, gazing at their inevitable deaths. Five had appeared, rewinded time with Hazel's briefcase ten days earlier. At the barn as bullets lodged themselves into their bodies and one by one, at the Sparrow Academy, each with their own deaths. Five had learnt seconds, not decades.

It's always been Five.

" _You said we already_ tried _. Why would this be any different?" Allison had asked Five defensively, her arms crossed._

It's always _been_ Five.

 _Five raises his gaze to Allison, regards her steadily. Regards Allison, his alive, breathing sister, her body radiating warmth. "Because_ _I'm_ here _-"_

Just one more move to checkmate. 

...It's one more move to - 

_The chess board_ explodes _, and Five_ sees _it. The significant_ pawn _._

 _'What will you do, Number Five?!" Reginald barks. "What will you_ do _\- "_

...Five's eyes _snap_ open. 

_Survive_. Five snarls at Reginald. 

_Intrigued, Reginald peers up at Five, impassive gaze suddenly curious behind his monocle at the edge of the chess board._

_Five's eyes_ glint _, fierce in determination._

...The pain is _maddening_. Five arches his back, grits his teeth so hard it might crack. Summoning all his strength, Five grips Allison, against the fabric of her trousers just as she takes a miniscule step forward. 

Allison. 

"...A- Allison - " 

_The chess game never ends._

"Ru- rumour me." Five bites out, eyes glinting. 

Next to Allison, the chess pieces begin to move. Five's gaze flickers, the mirage of the chess game weaving seamlessly into Allison, directly mimicking her movements. The pawn slowly moves to safety. 

"Rumour you to _what_ , Five?" Allison says, voice cracking. "You - you're - you look like you're one step from _dying_ -" 

Diego's turning to Five, a hallucinated vision of a similar pawn hovering next to him, shifts itself to safety. 

Five grits his teeth and _says_ it. He doesn't recall if he said it correctly, if the words makes it through his lips. The ultimatum.

The chess game never ends. Five never won. 

_Do_ _it for Luther, for - Claire. For their siblings. To survive._ Five doesn't say, doesn't include - he _omits -_ himself. 

One by one, the pawns changes position. 

_His siblings had always been precious to him. Always has been._

Five hears a strangled sob rises in Allison's throat. She's glancing at the rest of their siblings now, at Luther's prone body, at Diego's three throwing knives. At Vanya's limp, unconscious body, and Klaus' injured, torn leg.

Then finally, at the Sparrow Academy, _thirty seconds_ before they arrive. 

Five is barely breathing. It's coming out in strangled chokes now, the blood foaming in his mouth, Five feels more blood rising further in his throat, his vision darkening.

_Then what, pray tell, will you do next?_

Five desperately listens out for it. For Allison's voice, for her _suggestion_. Sees the Sparrow Academy, the crow witch, crows swarming in, heading directly towards them in droves.

_Ten seconds._

Allison - Allison, his sister, his _alive,_ breathing _sister_ , blinks hard, her features shifting to determined, resolute. She makes a _decision_.

The game _changes_. The chess board flips over _,_ black and white pieces flying _everywhere,_ past Five's intense gaze, eyes glinting at Reginald.

"...I heard a rumour," _I heard a rumour,_ Allison's breathless, unsteady voice pierces like lightning through the fog of his muddled, pain addled mind.

Five sucks in a breath, clenches his fists, desperately braces himself.

_Five seconds._

"I heard a rumour..." Allison's voice echoes feverishly, invading like icy tendrils into Five's weak, disoriented mind, slipping in every crevices...

 _...As Reginald curiously regards Five's strange, unprecedented determination through his single monocle, at his unnatural dedication to the pawns representing all that is_ precious _to him._

"I heard a rumour -" 

_One second._

_"-_ That you _teleported us all out to safety."_

Five's fists _crackles_ in a murderous blue. 

\- The Sparrow Academy lands on the wreckage, just narrowly missing the flash of terrifying, _blinding_ blue. 

The crows that accompanied them in droves, circle to the smoke still rising to the sky, reminiscent to the day Five appeared in the apocalypse, and _survived_. 

_...Five places down his King. Raises his challenging gaze at Reginald._

_Their gazes_ meet _._

The chess game never ends. Five never won. 

_"Hm. Very clever. Stalemate yet again, Number Five?" Reginald nods. "Very well, then."_

But Five has never lost, either.

...The next time Five wakes up to consciousness, to the dizzying whirlwind of black and white, of chess games, blood and decay, of hallucinations and the Handler's manipulation, the ruthless apocalypse merged with unprecedented agony...

...Five desperately wishes he could die.


End file.
